


I'm Sure of All the Things We Got

by Chash



Series: Charity Drive 2017 [15]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Kid Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-15
Updated: 2017-03-15
Packaged: 2018-10-05 21:09:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10317023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chash/pseuds/Chash
Summary: Clarke's not really completely convinced that this baby she never heard about is actually Bellamy's, but it also feels like an academic concern at best. The baby's mother died, and the baby's father is officially Bellamy, which means that as far as he's concerned, she's his responsibility.And Clarke's. She's not just going to let him deal with thisalone. What are friends for?





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Songbird918](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Songbird918/gifts).



> Per the summary of the fic, there is off-screen minor character death! It's Echo. It's mentioned a few times but happens off screen before the fic starts, please take note.
> 
> Also, there's a baby, so take note of that if you're not into babies, LIZ.

"You think she's really mine?" Bellamy asks.

Clarke peers at the picture the social worker sent of the baby, trying to assess her from a genetic perspective. She had the same question herself, but she didn't want to be the one to bring it up. After all, it's not _her_ baby.

"Does it matter?" she finally asks.

"Not really." He lets out a long sigh. "It's my name on the birth certificate, so I'm the next of kin."

"You could order a paternity test," she says, and he shrugs.

She gets it. Echo isn't--wasn't--exactly an ex-girlfriend of Bellamy's. She was an ex-fling, and Clarke is sure he was careful, but condoms fail, and the condom that failed might have been his or might not have been, but at this point, it doesn't feel like it's worth worrying about. Not with a baby in the world who's all alone now.

In all honesty, she's most surprised that Echo actually carried the baby to term, instead of just dealing with it herself, but it's not like she and Clarke were exactly tight. They met twice, and both times it was basically just awkward. She isn't uncomfortable with all of Bellamy's hookups--Raven, Gina, and Miller are all friends now--but they're a very mixed bag, and Echo had been completely uninterested in her.

(Bellamy had smugly said she was his revenge for Lexa, and Clarke had elbowed him in the side and told him he was an asshole.)

So on the one hand, Clarke doesn't really feel like she has a handle on the baby's entire existence and backstory, but she also doesn't really care. Because--well, it's still a baby. And it's a baby that's officially Bellamy's.

So she asks him, "But if it's not your kid, does that change anything?"

"Yeah, that's the question. Fuck, why did she keep it? I don't know if there's anyone I would have trusted less with a baby than Echo."

"Octavia."

That makes him smile, just a small tug at one corner of his mouth. "Yeah, but she's got Lincoln. He balances her out." He sighs again, rubs his hand over his face, and drops back onto the couch. "Fuck. Why didn't she tell me? She wasn't even trying to get child support from me. Why the fuck did she put me down as the father and then just--not say anything?"

Privately, Clarke thinks that Echo couldn't have had a sexual partner better to list as the kid's father than Bellamy, whether or not he really is. The timeline roughly checks out, but they weren't exclusive or anything. If Clarke had a kid and something happened to her, she'd want it to go to Bellamy, no question. Maybe Echo thought the same thing, since she apparently didn't have a current significant other to put in her will.

"Maybe she had an adoption lined up and it fell through or something," she offers, because she can't really tell him that. "Who knows. It still doesn't really matter, right?"

"You know how hard it is to adopt a baby?" he asks. "I don't think it's that common for it to just fall through. People who want kids really want them."

He's probably focusing on this to avoid the real issue, but Clarke doesn't feel like she can let him. He has to make a decision, and he has to make it fast. There's a baby out there with no one taking care of it. "And you really want them," she points out, gentle.

He snorts. "I wasn't thinking I wanted them _soon_."

"You don't have to say yes," she reminds him. "It's a baby. I'm sure there's still a wait list a mile long of people who would be thrilled to adopt her."

"Yeah. I'm sure there's some great family who would leap on the chance to get an actual baby."

She doesn't like his tone, and she sits down next to him to nudge his shoulder. "That kid couldn't do any better than you, Bellamy. If you want her, you should take her."

"I should talk to the social worker. I should--fuck, I need to find a new place."

"No you don't," she says, frowning. "We'd be fine. I mean, yeah, in a few years, once the kid is old enough to really need her own space, but you don't have to rush. We could put the crib in the living room so then if she woke up, we'd both--"

He's staring at her. "Clarke."

"What?"

"I'm not opting into this for both of us. This isn't--"

"You're not doing this alone," she says. It shouldn't surprise her, that he thought he was, but--it's a huge responsibility. If Bellamy's having a kid, she's helping. That's how the two of them _are_. They're roommates, and best friends, and--well, they're a _team_. "Babies are a ton of work."

"I know that," he snaps. "You don't."

"If you could do it when you were six, I think the two of us together can do it now."

He rubs his face again. "And what about when the kid is older? When I move?"

"What about it? I'm in for as long as you need me, Bellamy. If it's eighteen years, it's eighteen years. I don't care. Anything you need, that's what I'm here for."

There's a long pause, and then he deflates all at once. "No one's ever going to shut up about this, you know. We're _adopting a child together_. They're never going to let us hear the end of it."

"They already don't shut up," she points out. "And it's not adopting if it's your kid."

"Which it might not be. But--if Echo put me on the birth certificate, she wanted me to have her. If anything happened."

If it was someone else--Monty, maybe, or Wells, or Jasper--she'd tell them they had no obligation to do this. Just because someone wants you to have a kid doesn't mean you're required to do it. 

But this is Bellamy. He raised his sister because his mother told him that was his job, and he believed her. It doesn't matter what the paternity test says; it doesn't matter if Echo just chose his name for the birth certificate at random. As far as he's concerned, the kid is his now, and Clarke's not letting him shoulder that responsibility by himself. He needs someone around to make sure he doesn't kill himself worrying.

It's not that he can't do it alone; he could. But Clarke doesn't want him to have to. And, honestly, it's not like she'd really be able to butt out of the whole thing. If Bellamy has a kid, Clarke's involved. That's just how it is.

"Lucky kid," she tells him, nudging his shoulder. "You're going to be a great dad."

"Fuck," he says. "I hope so."

*

As people who weren't in any way planning to have a child go, she and Bellamy are actually in pretty good shape for it. Bellamy's working on his PhD, which means that, on the one hand, he's incredibly busy, but on the other, it's mostly work he can do at home. His sleep schedule is already a disaster, and he does better with frequent breaks from his thesis and grading, so having a kid to remind him to take them might help. And Clarke works for a graphic design firm that has a generous work-from-home policy, so if she tells them there's a baby in her life, they'll be fine with her working weird hours and coming to the office less, so long as she gets her work done.

Still.

"This is going to be weird to explain, isn't it?" she asks Raven.

" _My totally platonic, incredibly hot best friend may or may not have fathered a child, so I'm helping him raise it. As a friend_. Yeah, that's a completely normal thing to tell people. Everyone does that. Totally understandable."

"I was just going to say _roommate_. And it's not normal, but it's understandable, right? His ex was in an accident, now he has custody of a child, and we live together, so of course I'm going to help out. If we lived together and you ended up with a kid, I'd help you too."

"Uh huh. Not as much as you're going to help Bellamy."

"You also wouldn't end up with a kid," Clarke says, in lieu of giving a real answer. It's probably true, but--she and Raven have a different relationship than she and Bellamy do. After all, she and Raven met because they were sleeping with the same guy, and by all rights, they shouldn't have ever had contact again after that, but then Raven slept with Bellamy, and then Bellamy decided she was cool enough to keep, so she and Raven became friends too. And Raven's great, she is, but--

No one else is _Bellamy_.

"Yeah, that's true, I would have just put the kid up for adoption in a heartbeat."

"But you're going to help out too, right?" Clarke says. "It's not just me."

"It takes a village," Raven agrees. "I'm not telling my boss I've got a kid though."

"You're not living with the kid. Seriously, this is how anyone would deal with this situation."

"Definitely not. But keep telling yourself. When's she coming?"

"Bellamy's flying out to pick her up now. He's checking--Echo had stuff, obviously, but he's not sure if he'll like her crib or whatever, so he's going to text me if it's--unsatisfactory, I guess? Or not worth bringing across the country."

"Yeah, that sounds like him," says Raven, rolling her eyes. "So you didn't go so you can buy shit if you need it?"

"It's not like I have any actual legal connection to the kid anyway," she says. "It would be kind of weird if I went."

"Sure, that would be the weird thing." She takes a sip of beer. "So, just out of curiosity, are you planning to never have sex again, or do you think you can just talk around co-parenting a child with your hot best friend?"

"It's not like I've been hooking up much. If I meet anyone I want to date, it's easy to explain."

"Yeah, because explaining Bellamy always goes so well," she mutters.

She doesn't have a good response to that, of course; her and Bellamy's friendship has been a source of tension in more than one of her relationships, and she knows it's true for him too. Her assumption has always been that if she found the right person, they'd get it. 

But she never really knew what that meant to begin with, and even she has to admit, co-parenting a child is a step beyond the regular understanding she expects.

"He's worth it," says Clarke, with a shrug. "If I don't get laid for a while, I don't get laid. I can provide orgasms for myself."

She's bracing herself for a comment from Raven about how Bellamy could probably provide orgasms, like usual, but apparently it's too much for Raven to even tease her about.

Instead she just says, "I really hope you know what you're doing."

It's one of those weird statements, because of course the whole thing is giant and overwhelming and way too much, but--there's nothing else she _could_ do. It's not an option.

"Yeah," she says. "I definitely do."

*

Grace Helena Winters is seven months, ten days, and five hours old when Clarke meets her. She doesn't look much like Bellamy, but she doesn't look much like anyone, honestly. Her complexion looks plausibly like a combination of Bellamy's and Echo's, but she doesn't have enough hair yet to tell if it's brown or black. She's plausibly related to him. Clarke could see it going either way.

It'll be kind of academically interesting to see how it turns out, but it's a moot point. Bellamy is holding the baby carefully in his arms, cradling her like she's the most precious thing he's ever held, so she's already his daughter. It's a done deal.

"How was the flight?" Clarke asks, with a small smile.

"Fucking terrible," he says, and then flushes, looking down at the girl in his arms. "I mean--it was rough. She didn't like it, which was already bad, and this was my first time being on the parent side of the crying kid on the plane. But she calmed down eventually, so--yeah. I don't feel like a total failure yet."

"That's good, because I'm definitely going to be one. One of us needs to have some idea what we're doing."

"You'll be fine," he says. "Here, you can hold her and I'll grab our bags."

"I can hold her?"

He smiles with half his mouth. "You're supposed to be helping, right? At some point, you're going to have to interact with the kid." His shoulder is warm as it brushes against hers, and her arms come up automatically to accept the baby. "Support her head."

Grace is small and warm, and by some miracle she doesn't wake up when Bellamy transfers her into Clarke's arms. It's a strange sensation, looking at the girl, like a warm, bright light is suddenly living in her chest, and she can't quite breathe for a second with it.

"Yeah," Bellamy says, soft. "That's good. You're a natural."

"I don't feel like a natural," she says, and gives her a tentative rock. "Go get the car seat."

He didn't bring that much of Grace's stuff back, mostly because it was too expensive to bring on the plane or ship home, but he got all her clothes and her car seat, so he picks everything up while Clarke just--holds the baby.

This is her life now. This is how it's going to be.

Bellamy gets the car seat set up in the back, and Clarke helps him settle Grace into it. He looks like he hasn't slept for a week, even though it's only been two days since she saw him, so she drives and lets him zone out in shotgun.

"Who took you shopping?" he finally thinks to ask, once they're on the highway.

"Your sister and Lincoln. Octavia spent the whole time ranting at me about how Echo was an asshole for not telling you about the baby, so congratulations on missing that."

"Yeah, she told me the same thing." He scrubs his hand over his jaw. "It's not like I think she's wrong, I just don't see much point in getting pissed at someone I barely dated who's dead now. I wish she'd told me when she found out about the baby, but she didn't. Maybe she was going to. I don't know. I'm never going to know, so I don't see why I'd worry about it."

"That's what I told her, yeah. I think I even convinced her." She smiles. "I've got you covered. We got the crib, we got everything on your list, and me and Lincoln and Miller even got everything assembled. So we're all set."

"All set," he says, amused. "To be parents."

"You've been all set to be a parent since you were six years old," she points out. "And I think I'm doing okay so far, right?"

He gives her a soft smile, and the warmth in her chest might never go away. She isn't sure how to feel about it. "You're doing great. I know I told you you didn't have to help with this, but it's been less than a week since I found out about her and I already don't know what I'd be doing without you."

"You'd be fine. But I'm sticking around anyway."

"Cool," he says. "Don't ever let me talk you out of it."

"I won't. Get some sleep, Bellamy," she adds. "We're going to need it."

*

It's an understatement. Clarke always knew, in a theoretical way, that babies were a lot of work. She's getting old enough that a lot of people on her Facebook timeline have reproduced, and she hears them talking about the miracle of life or whatever, but she _also_ hears a lot about lack of sleep and excessive bodily fluids.

Seven months is at least past some of the worst of it, but it's still a _baby_. She's a good sleeper and decent eater, but she's also a stranger. They have no context for her aside from what Bellamy found in the stuff the social worker had. They know Grace's favorite toys and what kind of baby food she likes, but they have to figure out her personality and habits through trial and error, and it's exhausting.

She likes when Bellamy sings to her, and she likes when Clarke bounces her on her leg. Once she's used to Clarke, she starts trying to breast feed, and there's an awkward google search about whether or not Clarke could or should produce milk for her, and when she finds she can, she and Bellamy both just sort of stare at the laptop for a while.

"Formula's fine," he finally says. "Like--I fed O with formula, it's not a big deal. She'll get used to it."

"I know. But--it doesn't sound that hard."

"I'm pretty sure it is. You'd have to get yourself producing milk and pump it when you're out and--it's definitely a pain."

"We could try it. If I hate it, we can always go back to formula. And she might not even, like--take to me. Or whatever. You said you weren't supposed to talk me out of this," she adds. "I want to try."

"Hey, knock yourself out, they're your breasts," he says, and she does her best not to flush. It's not like they weren't comfortable around each other before, half dressed and casual in the mornings, but it's gotten to be a lot _more_ since the baby showed up. If the baby spits up on her, she doesn't bother waiting until Bellamy isn't around to pull her shirt off. When she wakes them up crying, they both wander out of their rooms in whatever they were sleeping in to check on her. It's intimate and new, and it's only going to get worse, if she does this.

She still wants to. "They are my breasts, and I'm doing it," she says, and once she's producing, it becomes just another thing, Clarke on the couch with the baby at her breast while Bellamy yells at Netflix about historical inaccuracy.

Raven might be right; this might be the thing that finally kills her social life. There are plenty of things that she expects a potential sexual partner to be okay with, but her and Bellamy literally raising a child together really is a few steps beyond what she could feel okay with, if it was someone else.

But she wouldn't give it up. She loves Grace, easily and almost instantly, enough that it freaks her out. It _should_ be harder, shouldn't it? She should be freaking out, instead of settling in. When she thinks about it, it still _feels_ too big, like she should be drowning, but somehow it keeps on being the easiest thing in the world. So uncomplicated she can't even believe it.

Until her mother finds out.

Bellamy's at class, so it's just Clarke and Grace at home, for which Clarke is grateful. Abby and Bellamy have always had a fraught relationship, and she really doesn't want him to witness whatever she's going to say about the baby.

"You and Bellamy have a child," says Abby, flat, before Clarke's even said anything.

"Well, she's Bellamy's," Clarke says. "Technically. But, yeah, I think she probably counts as mine too, at this point."

Abby lets out a long, sharp breath. "And you didn't think you should tell me?"

It's been a month and a half, and it's not exactly uncommon for her and her mother to go that long without speaking. Abby is busy, and so is Clarke.

But it's still valid; she should have called, at some point. But her mother wasn't really on her radar, with everything else going on.

"Like I said, she's mostly Bellamy's."

"I had to hear from Marcus, who heard from Charles Pike."

Clarke winces. She doesn't know what Bellamy told his professor, but it sounds like a game of telephone, so--hopefully her mother doesn't think she actually _had a baby_.

"It's hard to tell people. Our friends know, but--it's pretty weird. I didn't know what to tell you. Bellamy's ex-girlfriend was in a car crash, she passed away, and she left a daughter he didn't know about. She never told him. It was seventy-two hours between us finding out she existed and us getting her, and it's been pretty much non-stop ever since."

"Bellamy getting her," Abby corrects.

Even though she stated it, the distinction makes Clarke bristle coming from someone else. "I wasn't going to move out and leave him to deal with this alone. Of course I got her too."

"Are the two of you getting married?"

Clarke pauses, genuinely surprised by the question. "No. Why?"

"I don't know what you're waiting for, especially now that you have a child."

As always, it's not a new assumption. It's not uncommon for people to think that she and Bellamy are involved. But she has to admit it's getting more and more legitimate, as an interpretation.

"We're pretty busy right now," she says, for lack of a better argument.

"You should send me pictures of the baby," Abby says, soft, and a lump rises in Clarke's throat. "She's my granddaughter. I want to spoil her."

Right on cue, Grace throws a block and starts crying when it lands out of her reach. Clarke gives it back to her, smiles automatically when Grace laughs.

Her mother's granddaughter. Her daughter.

Her _and Bellamy's_ daughter.

"Yeah," she says, though her mouth has gone dry. "We have a billion pictures. I'll send some. And Mom?"

"Yes?"

"I'm so sorry I didn't tell you. I didn't--I wasn't sure what to say happened. It was just so unexpected and I didn't know--"

"I wish you'd told me. It must have been so overwhelming. I could have come up to help."

"We're doing okay. But you can come meet her soon."

"I'd like that."

When Bellamy gets back, Clarke is on the couch on her laptop, looking through the metric ton of images she has of Grace and Bellamy. About half of them have him in them, and the other half she took for him, to send him when he wasn't around, and they're all way too much, almost painful to look at.

Clarke's most private feelings for Bellamy have always been some weird conditional phrase, _I'm not in love with him unless--_ She wasn't going to tell anyone, wasn't going to play along with teasing, was barely even going to let herself _think it_ , because she refused be that person, pining away for her best friend, when friendship was all she needed from him. When they were _happy_ , when she had him in every way that mattered, when she knew that if she called, he'd always drop everything for her. 

When she knew she was the most important person in his life.

And now she's not, and she never will be again, but it's not a problem, not as long as they're a family.

She says she doesn't know what she was thinking, agreeing to this, except she does. She couldn't do anything else.

"My mom called," she tells him, and he freezes.

"Shoot," he says, a little awkwardly. He's training himself out of swearing in front of Grace; it's cute. "Had you talked to her since--"

"Nope."

"Is she coming down to murder me for--I don't know what exactly I'd be getting murdered for. It's not like I knocked you up. But I assume she'd think of something."

"No, she was just--hurt. That I didn't tell her she had a granddaughter."

"Oh." His face shifts into neutral, careful and guarded. "I guess that's probably how it feels, right?" 

"Yeah." She puts her focus on the laptop, but keeps watching his face out of the corner of her eye. Bellamy's bad at letting himself want things. "I couldn't tell her she was wrong. She's my daughter, right?"

His throat bobs as he swallows, and he looks down at his hands. "That's what I was worried about, yeah. You can--if you need to get out, you can. If you move out, you can still help me, but it'll be easier to--"

"I never said I minded. I'm in this for as long as you want me, Bellamy."

"Yeah?" There's a slight edge in his voice. "And what happens if I stop wanting you?"

"If that happened it was always going to ruin my life," she points out. "So--business as usual, I guess."

His jaw works, but he finally just nods and says, "I guess that's true."

"Do you want me to leave?" she asks, and he lets out a breath like she hit him.

" _No_. Jesus, no, of course not, but--fuck. This is a lot, right? Even for us."

"Yeah." She wets her lips, tries to figure out what to say. If this is the time to tell him--if she should just get it all out now, while it's already awkward and prickly, while her whole body feels stupidly aware of him.

Grace starts crying in her crib, and Bellamy shoots up like he's been stung.

"I'll get her," he offers, and Clarke watches him go, lets out a shaky breath and turns her attention back to the computer. She selects her twenty favorite shots of Grace--or Grace and Bellamy--and attaches them to an email with the subject _The grandkid_. In the body, she puts Grace's date of birth, favorite toys and foods, and habits. And then she adds, _More pictures soon_ , because of course it's true, and then closes the laptop as soon as it's sent and goes back to make sure Bellamy doesn't need help.

There's no rush; neither of them is going anywhere.

*

"So, can everyone pretend like it's a surprise I'm in love with Bellamy?"

Raven, Monty, and Lincoln exchange a look, and then raise their glasses to drink in unison. Clarke puts her head down on the table with a groan.

"Wow, that is brand new information," says Monty.

"I'm shocked to find that gambling is going on in here," Lincoln adds.

"That's what I thought," says Clarke. "It's fine. I'm owning it. So all the stuff you haven't been saying about how I should tell him I'm into him? Knock yourselves out. I don't know what to do. I'm open to suggestions."

There's another pause, and then Lincoln offers, slow and a little cautious, "Have you just tried telling him?"

"No, that's what I need help with."

"You really don't," says Raven. "You guys are the most married people I've ever met. You're even more married than Lincoln and Octavia, now that you've got the kid. Maybe even before."

"It's true," Lincoln says. "I'd say we aspire to reach your level, but we don't. Octavia actively wants to not be as domestic and married as you two are."

"I'm pretty sure he's been on the right page since he and Gina broke up," Raven adds.

Given Raven is dating Gina now, it seems like she would know. "Yeah?" Clarke asks.

Raven shrugs. "I'm not saying I'm an expert, but Gina wanted more, and they tried real dating for like two weeks, and then he apologized and told her he couldn't. He never _said_ it was about you, but she always figured. And that was, like, right when you and Lexa broke up, so--" She shrugs. "I know he hasn't been celibate since then, hence the kid, but he sure as hell hasn't been _dating_ anyone."

"Yeah." She wets her lips. "Monty, thoughts?"

"Honestly, I have no idea how I'd know if you two had hooked up. Every time I see you, I'm like, well, this is going to happen eventually, but how could I tell? I don't know what you're supposed to say," he adds. "Talking's the worst part. But--I don't think it's a big deal. Whatever you say, Bellamy's going to be saying yes before you finish asking. I'd bet money."

"Have you ever bet money on this?" Raven asks, curious.

"Not recently," he says, with a shrug. "Back in college, Jasper bet me twenty bucks that they'd be hooking up by graduation, and that didn't happen, and then he did it a couple more times before he realized he was just giving me money and stopped believing in you. But I always kept the faith."

"He's my best friend," says Clarke, looking down at her hands. She feels like she's almost choking on the words. "And we never--"

"You never," Raven agrees. She claps her hand on Clarke's shoulder and gives her a friendly squeeze/shake combination. It's warm and reassuring and grounding all at once. Raven loves her. _All_ her friends love her. They wouldn't be telling her this if they thought it'd go wrong. "But you definitely should."

"I probably should," she says, and drains her drink. "Later."

She flags the bartender for another, and she winds down, the tension of the admission draining out of her as everyone's normal and unfazed. Everyone knew, no one cares, no one's _worried_.

Her phone buzzes half an hour later, a text from Bellamy with a video of Grace having a staring contest with one of her stuffed animals, and her mouth twitches. It upgrades into a full smile when he adds, _This has been going for like twenty minutes, I've never seen it so focused. I can't tell if she loves it or hates it._

 _Sorry I'm missing out_ , she shoots back.

_You're the one who wanted to have "friends" and "a life."_

"So, you're bailing on us for your husband and kid, huh?" asks Raven, but she doesn't look upset.

"The kid really helps with this one, huh?"

"Yeah, parents get to be anti-social." She wraps her arm around Clarke's shoulders and tugs her in for half a hug. "Seriously, talk to him. You're going to be fine."

 _I'll be home in half an hour_ , she texts Bellamy, and smiles at Raven. "Yeah. I will be."

*

Clarke met Bellamy ten years ago, her junior year of college, which was also his junior year, after a fashion. He'd transferred in from a state school, having worked his ass off to good enough grades to finish at a college that would give him a better chance. He was twenty-four with a chip on his shoulder, and Clarke had thought he was just another asshole dude for the first month or so of their shared class.

They became friends overnight, basically, working on a project together, and some part of Clarke always expected them to hit a bump, a real one, but they haven't. The closest they ever came was when she went to Italy to study abroad for the spring of junior year something that he resented because he couldn't afford it and thought she didn't appreciate enough, and there had been an awkward week, when she got back, but then they'd talked, and figured it out, and she thinks it made them closer, in the end. And even then, she'd never doubted they'd work it out.

She doesn't know how to not be sure about Bellamy. Even now, she's sure. Whatever happens, she won't ruin them.

When she gets home, he's asleep on the couch, shirtless, with the baby on his chest. It's a pretty familiar sight, because he's read a lot about the importance of skin-on-skin contact for babies, and it's always made Clarke's breath feel too big for her chest. He's attractive, of course, he's always been attractive, but it's not about that, the way she feels.

Or, not _just_ about that. She's only human. And he's her--

Well, he's _hers_.

She sits down next to him on the couch, threading her fingers into his hair and rubbing his scalp. His face screws up, and scrubs one hand over it, dislodging his glasses.

"You're so old," she teases.

"I'm a father," he grumbles. "I sleep when I can. You could have stayed out later, we were fine," he adds, pushing himself to a sitting position carefully, so he won't wake the baby.

"I'm a mother. I get tired."

He looks down to hide his smile, and Clarke's so sure. "Still. I know you don't get much time to hang out these days. I don't mind if you take it."

"Remember how you don't want to do this alone and I'm supposed to remind you of that?"

"Why do you think I told you to remind me? If I'd do it on my own, I wouldn't need your help." He straightens his glasses and gives her a crooked smile. "Seriously, did you have fun?"

"Yeah, but I missed you guys."

He opens his mouth and closes it again, looks down at the baby when he says, "Honestly, I was sort of expecting you to not come home tonight."

"That was stupid," she says, and he laughs, soft. "I would have told you if I was out cruising for a hookup."

"You don't have to. I get that it's--weird."

"So you thought I was out trying to get laid and texted me a video of our daughter?"

She can feel him stiffen next to her, the way he always does when she calls Grace _hers_ or _theirs_. "I never said I wasn't an asshole," he says, careful, and Clarke smiles.

"I was out with Raven and Lincoln and Monty," she says. "So they could tell me it's okay I'm in love with you. Which they did, so--I feel a lot better."

When he doesn't say anything, she lets herself look at him. He's staring ahead, expression frozen, and her heart flips over with the idea that she really might have ruined things.

Then he remembers how to move, shakes his head like he's trying to clear it, nods to himself. "You know you're, like--producing a lot of hormones right now, right? Your body is probably really confused about milk and reproduction and babies, so--"

She has to smile. "It's not _new_ , Bellamy. I just thought we weren't--" She exhales. "I didn't think you wanted that, so I wasn't going to want it either, but--if this isn't going to happen, we should probably figure it out before this gets any more--complicated."

"Oh," he says, and lets out a long breath of his own. "I'm, uh--I'm going to put the baby in the crib," he says, finally. "And then I'm going to--" He makes an abortive attempt to finish the sentence, but gives up and just leans over to kiss her, fast and a little off-center, honestly kind of a mess, but it still has her grinning. "We should figure it out," he finishes, and Clarke resists the urge to pull him back.

Instead, she turns and watches him settle Grace into the crib, singing softly under his breath, leaning down to kiss her forehead once she's settled. 

Of course she loves him. He's the best.

"So, are you drunk?" he asks, lingering by the crib. "How drunk are you?"

"Not drunk. Not in any way impaired."

He nods once, short and sharp. "Sorry, I just--fuck, I can't do this if it's--if you're--"

"Bell," she says, gentle. She almost never uses the nickname--it's mostly Octavia's--but it always feels gentler. And it always gets his attention. "Just sit down and breathe, okay?"

He does sit, but not close, watching her like a caged animal. It's disconcerting, but--his issue seems to be that he likes her so much, he doesn't want to get his hopes up. It's hard to think that's anything but awesome.

"You gotta be sure, Clarke," he says. "I am. And I don't mind--I can wait, I've been waiting, but I can't--"

"You would have been a lot better off just _saying something_ ," she chides, and then she tugs him in, landing the kiss right this time, and he only hesitates for a second before he's responding, pushing her onto her back on the couch, kissing her like he's starving for it. Her hands slide up his bare back, torn between the desire to map every inch of skin and the need to just pull him closer. 

She's spent so many years not kissing him.

"I'm sure," she says, breathless. "People don't adopt babies with you if they're not sure."

"It's not adopting if she's mine," he says.

"She's mine too," Clarke points out.

"Thank goodness," he teases. "It was really getting awkward, trying to explain you to people."

"Yeah." Her fingers tangle in his hair. "I think this is going to make a lot more sense."

"Absolutely," he says, and kisses her again. "This is how it should go."

**Author's Note:**

> Bellamy POV [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9507350/chapters/22969446)!


End file.
